If Only
by brittany89
Summary: In a time before Emma knows that she is the savior, she resides in Boston as a bailbonds person. Broken and alone, an accident leads her in the direction of Storybrooke and her destiny when a handsome stranger comes alone. Xx Captain Swan xX
1. Chapter 1

It was the chill of the night. Or maybe it was the seductive allure of the possibility of feeling anything. The chance for the perpetual numbness to simply dissipate and become part of the dark night rather than her heart.

Emma sighed. She ran her hands down either side of her body, flattening the wrinkles in her black, skin tight dress. She pursed her red lips together and watched the scene unfold in front of her. The promise of a great night with a handsome man named had brought her here. But the twisted metal in front of her kept her here.

It was the time before she knew who she was. A time where she lived a simple existence sustaining herself on bounty hunting and hope. She didn't yet know fairy tales were real or that she is the product of true love. She hadn't yet discovered the magic brewing inside her. She didn't yet know that somewhere out there were her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, trapped in a curse, unable to remember her or themselves. And her parents couldn't have known that their daughter lived a lonely life, closed off from the world and even herself.

Despite the cool breeze that accompanied early autumn in Boston, Emma chose the sexy dress and red pumps to impress her date, a man who turned out to be a pig. She had long since filed him in the back of her mind along with her aching feet and cold skin. She said yes to the mysterious stranger on a whim. He was the tall, dark, and handsome type with a good job and a seemingly great personality to match. It was all a facade though as Emma came to realize. Although broken, she wouldn't allow anybody to treat her the way he had. She had long since shooed him away but found herself in a much more precarious situation. The scared child and unwanted teenager had surfaced. She had withdrawn into herself again, something she thought she had grown out of.

Emma had fled the fine dining restaurant just an hour ago. She only attended on the insistence of her date. But after she realized that she wanted nothing to do with the handsome stranger, she went across the street to the bar, sulking and throwing back a few shots. By the time she decided to leave, her nervous system had taken a hit as she was beginning to feel the desired effects of the liquor. Stumbling out of the bar with her heels in her hand, Emma had begun the walk of shame back to her flat. A handsome man with green eyes had offered her his assistance, but she quickly turned him down, refusing to allow another handsome stranger to make empty promises.

She was by herself as she walked home, something she was used to. She had decided to give in to the effects of the liquor rumbling around in her empty stomach. (Her date ended before the food came.) She was careless on her way home, zigzagging about the thin sidewalk. Her head bobbed carelessly on her shoulders as the ringlets in her hair she spent a great deal of time on fell flat and whipped in the breeze. She didn't pay attention to her surroundings. Instead she allowed her mind to race. She focused on the empty feeling within her, her numbness now seeping from her heart and into her soul.

The alcohol was surging through Emma's veins, affecting her balance, vision, and inhibitions. But most of all, it affected her judgment. She should have taken a cab back home. She could have been home by now, washing this day off in a bubble bath. Instead she stumbled down a vacant street towards home. She was alone. She was full of alcohol and sorrow. She didn't know it, but she was grieving the life she should of had with loving parents. The loss of a happy home.

Emma took a deep breath. She slowed her pace and closed her eyes. She wanted to feel her bare feet against the cold concrete, the breeze against her skin, the clothes against her body, She wanted to feel so she closed her eyes. She allowed her body to relax, to give in to the liquor. She focused on the fuzzy feeling only alcohol could give her. She felt light and free. Her loneliness melted away. She tilted her head towards the sky, breathing deeper. She felt the cold autumn air fill her lungs. And in the moment a small smile played on her lips.

But in the end, the alcohol won.

Closing her eyes threw Emma's balance off that much more. She stumbled off the thin sidewalk and off the curb. She fell into the street, landing hard on her right side. Her shoes flew out of her hand and rested a few feet away. Although bruised and sore, she was okay. It took a few moments to gather her thoughts. Perhaps it was a moment too long. She didn't see the car barreling down the street until its headlights blinded her. It was coming right at her. Gasping in fear and shock, Emma tried to stumble to her feet, but the alcohol slowed her movements.

In a panic, the driver of the car pressed on the horn and slammed the brakes. But it was too late. He couldn't stop in time to avoid hitting the blonde woman in the middle of the street. Sacrificing his own safety, the driver veered the steering wheel hard to the left causing the car to lunge.. With a sickening sound of twisted metal, the car crashed into the building across the street.

Emma stared at the wreckage until her pupils were able to focus on it. The car no longer took the shape of a car. Instead it was a pile of scrap metal. The horn seemed to have been saved during the crash as it was now wailing, the sound cutting through the otherwise peaceful night. She finally managed to stumble to her feet. Frozen in fear, everything melted away except the pile of metal before her. Smoke billowed up from the hood and dissipated into the street was dark except for a few widely spaced street car had come to rest in such a way that the light from a street lamp caught the wreckage perfectly in its artificial rays, giving Emma a clear view of the driver's side.

The site was sobering.

The driver leaned against the steering wheel with his arms hanging by his side. His once brown hair was matted with blood which poured from a gash in his head, flowed over his right eye and down his chin before dripping on the floor. Emma took in his features. He had a tiny scar just below his hairline on the left side of his forehead. A flash of recognition washed over Emma, and it took a little bit for her to place it. It was Harrison, the man who she had a date with, who she saw just a few hours ago.

With a debilitating paralysis that left her muscles tense and unmoving, the only thing Emma could do was stare. She took a sharp inhale of air before gulping it down. She finally willed her muscles to move, but the only thing she could manage was sliding her arms down her sides as if calming the wrinkles in her dress. Her drunken mind couldn't think straight, but an array of racing thoughts flashed through her mind. Just for a moment, she thought about running.

"Are you okay?"

Snapping back to reality, Emma twisted her head towards the direction of the voice. She immediately recognized the owner of the voice as the handsome man in the bar. Her shoulders drooped even more so than they already were. The last handsome stranger she met tonight currently laid in the middle of a pile of wreckage before her. She finally moved her feet and faced the stranger. "Call for help," she pleaded

"I already did," he responded. He stopped just a few feet away from Emma, reading her face before deciding if he should approach her further.

Emma let her posture fall along with the tension that had build up. She pulled the corners of her mouth upwards in what was supposed to be a smile but instead turned out to be faint.

The man then veered sharply towards the car just as the shrill sound of sirens appeared in the background. He felt for a pulse. Feeling a faint one, he called for Emma to help him.

This time Emma didn't hesitate. She quickly jumped in to help pry the driver's door open.

"Be careful not to move his head too much," the man warned as he and Emma carried him from the wreckage. Once on the ground, he began tapping the man's shoulder. "Hey," he said. He began to shake him, but still the victim didn't respond. He quickly leaned forward to listen for breath sounds. He looked up at Emma. "We have to give him CPR. Breath into his mouth when I tell you."

Emma got on her knees, kneeling next to Harrison's head. "His name is Harrison," she said. It felt like hours but must have been no more than a few minutes before the ambulance pulled up. Both she and the stranger backed up to allow the paramedics to work. Panting hard with both adrenaline and exhaustion, Emma stole a glance of the man beside her before grabbing onto his shoulder to keep her balance. Embarrassed, Emma quickly retracted her hand.

The stranger smiled. "My name is Killian Jones." He offered Emma his hand.

XOXO

Hey guys, let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma eyed the stranger's hand, then she turned her gaze to Harrison who was being loaded into the ambulance. The sirens of the police cars were far more piercing than the ambulance had been. They were getter closer. Everything in her told her to run away, to not look back and to claim ignorance when the police inquired. The abandoned little girl and lost teenager still roamed within her like a pinball bouncing off its obstacles.

But the stranger's hand told her a story, a story of his life that piqued her interest. His hand was rough around the edges and bore the scars only a man who worked with his hands could. They were dry and looked as if they were once painful.

Emma slid her hand in Killian's. Untrue to his hand's appearance, it was actually soft. She took her hand back quickly and a surge of dizziness flooded her body. She steadied herself just as a wave of nausea appeared. She fought that too.

Instead Emma focused her attention onto a police car that had pulled up a few feet away from the wreckage. _Too late to run_ , she thought. The stranger had faded into the background by now and the only thing she could focus on was the numbness within her, partially caused by the alcohol and partially caused by the drama of the night.

Within a few moments before the ambulance even had a chance to speed away, the scene was swarming with police officers and detectives. Emma tensed when she saw a short man with a mustache wearing a police uniform approach her and Killian. The man had a small note pad and a pencil in his hand.

"I'm Officer Williams," the police officer said. "Tell me what happened."

Emma's mind raced. Now that Harrison was on his way to the hospital, the shock was beginning to wear off. She was only able to think as clearly as the alcohol would allow and even that was clouded by the one thought that replayed in her mind like a movie: _it's my fault_.

Emma only knew what she felt: loneliness with a dash of hope. She had never felt loved or missed or cared for. She knew exactly how precious those feelings are because she never felt them. And as she stood there, drunk and alone in a crowd of strangers, she had never wished harder for that warm and fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one she could only get from a movie or a book. Here on her 28th birthday, the only thing she wished for was not to be alone. And as she opened her mouth to tell the officer exactly what happened, she knew reality couldn't be farther from what she wished for.

ooo

Killian stood with his arms crossed over his chest. While Officer Williams questioned the beautiful woman whose name he did not yet know, he finished up answering questions from his own officer. Officer Hamilton, as he would learn, was polite and thorough. With a nod and a thank you, the officer left Killian alone, giving him time gaze at the woman who intrigued him.

A smile formed across his lips as he watched her. He could tell she was still drunk and that she was trying hard not to give into it. She wasn't tense as she talked with the officer, but she wasn't relaxed either. She had managed to find a happy medium that allowed her to listen but not quite hang on every word. In the half hour that he knew her, he had come to realize that she was a fiercely independent woman. That is why he loved it even more when Officer Williams approached him, with the woman sulking behind him, asking him to make sure she got home safe. He happily accepted.

"I never got your name," Killian said.

She had already begun walking towards her apartment, and Killian had to take a few extra wide steps to catch up with her. She glanced sideways at him. "Emma Swan," she said flatly.

Killian let her name rattle around inside his brain for a few minutes.

Emma sighed. "Listen thanks for that... You know, back there. What you did…"

The lights from the police cars were fading into the background, leaving them with only the dim street lights to guide their way. The only sound was the pitter patter of Emma's bare feet on the sidewalk accompanied by Killian's soft steps.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Navy."

"Oh."

ooo

Emma lead the rest of the way to her apartment in silence. The silence between them was comfortable. He stood close to her to make sure she didn't topple over, but not too close as to invade her space. It felt good to not be alone if only for a few minutes. _Happy Birthday to me_ , she thought.

The warmth of her apartment building was welcoming. The cold was beginning to prick at her and her bare feet were like ice on the cold concrete. She pushed the button to summon the elevator. She slouched against the wall and waited. Killian, true to his nature, gave her extra space since the wall could prevent her from tumbling over. With a ding, the elevator doors popped open and they got in.

"Today is my birthday," Emma said. The comment shocked her. The thought came out of nowhere and the words came from an even farther place.

Killian widened his eyes for a moment in surprise. "Oh, well, happy birthday," he said.

Emma smiled to herself. It felt good that somebody wished her a happy birthday even from a stranger. But she knew that he was just a stranger, a kind soul. It was refreshing to have somebody by her side if only for a little while. But being alone is what she was good at.

The elevator came to a stop and unloaded its passengers.

Emma used the wall to keep herself upright as she approached her apartment door. She had yet to look up. She kept her eyes on her feet.

"You have a kid?"

Emma's head popped up and looked at Killian. "What? No," she said, wondering where such a stupid question came from. It wasn't until she actually looked towards her front door that she noticed a young boy standing outside her apartment. She slowed her pace and Killian did as well. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Who wants to know?"

The child glanced at the man beside Emma then back to her. "My name is Henry. I'm your son."


	3. Chapter 3

Emma paused. The alcohol must have affected her more than she realized. Without flinching, she replied, "Sorry, Kid. I don't have a son." She reached into her dress and pulled her apartment key out from her cleavage.

"Clever," Killian said.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Thank you for walking me home," she said to him. She dismissed Killian as easily as she dismissed the child at her doorstep. She slid the key in the lock and with a satisfying click, she opened her door.

"Ten years ago, did you give up a baby for adoption?" the child asked.

Emma stopped and it gave confirmation of the truth. She thought about that baby boy she gave up every day at first. But as time passed, the intervals between the memory got longer. Eventually, she was able to block him out. He was a source of pain that she would rather soon forget. It was better for him that she not be in his life. Or so she thought.

"That was me."

Emma's mouth hung open in awe. A wave of confusion and annoyance washed over her. She shook her head slightly as if to rid herself of the emotions, but quickly changed her mind as a dizzy spell took ahold of her. She reached out to the wall to steady herself. She looked to Killian.

"Guess you do have a kid after all," Killian shrugged. His face held a small smile but it was accompanied by uncertainty.

Emma suspected his joke was meant to be light-hearted and to soothe her, but her already hectic night was getting worse. All she wanted to do was sleep in order to rid her mind and body of her reality. Instead, the surprises kept coming.

Without any further questions, Henry snuck past Emma and let himself in.

Emma stared at Killian for a moment, confusion and desperation written on her face. She simply left her door open and followed the uninvited child deeper into her apartment.

ooo

For a moment, Killian pondered whether or not he should leave. He could tell that Emma didn't have any plans of continuing their nonexistent relationship, but the child that just showed up at her door claiming to be her son increased his curiosity of both her and now the situation. Plus, she did leave the front door open.

Just like the child had done, Killian let himself into her apartment. He closed the door behind him. He cautiously ventured deeper into the apartment. Immediately, he noticed how clean and impersonal her apartment was, like she could disappear at any moment and nobody would know who lived there.

"Where are your parents?" Emma asked.

Killian cleared his throat. "I hope you don't mind," he said, "but I thought you could use my help." He was polite as if that would excuse him from letting himself in.

"I don't need your help," Emma said. Her words were forceful but not meant to be mean.

Killian gave her a slight nod in response. He unconsciously took a small step back to let Emma know that he was harmless. He didn't want to cause her anymore distress. So he just watched.

"What happened to your hand?" Henry inquired. He was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, drinking juice from the bottle.

Killian raised his left hand up to allow the child to get a better look. He knew by the look on Emma's face that she had not noticed the prosthetic hand attached to his wrist. "Accident. While I was in the Navy."

He watched Emma and wondered what she was going to do. She crinkled her nose and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Kid," Emma said, "but I've had a long night. I'm going to call the cops." She moved across the room to her phone.

"Then I'll tell them you kidnapped me."

Killian couldn't help but smile. This child was clever. He could already see the resemblance between them: stubborn and independent. He watched as Emma hesitated for a moment before clicking the call button.

Emma glanced at Killian then back at the child. "And they believe you because I'm your birth mother?"

"Yup."

Emma raised her eyebrow. "You're not going to do that."

"Try me."

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. "You're pretty good, but here's the thing. There's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying, and you, Kid, are."

"Wait. Please don't call the cops. Please. Come home with me."

ooo

Emma sighed. She wasn't exactly in the mood to call the police. She had already spent enough time with them tonight. A pang of guilt hit her all of a sudden, and she made a mental note to check up on Harrison. Not in a blatantly obvious kind of way. Just a quick stop to make sure he was okay.

Emma hung up the phone. She allowed her shoulders to slump forward in defeat. Why did this kid show up at her door? Whatever the reason, she felt for him. "Where's home?"

"Storybrooke, Maine."

"Storybrooke? Seriously?"

"Mmm-hmm"

Up till now, Killian had been quiet. He had been a bystander, but she needed his help. She gave him a nod towards her bedroom to indicate to him that she needed to talk to him in private.

"I'm drunk," Emma confessed.

Killian made a face. "I know," he laughed.

"I mean I can't drive." She didn't want to completely explain. She wanted him to understand without saying the words. She looked back to Henry who seemed content where he was, still sipping the juice from the bottle.

"And you need me to take you?" He nodded towards the child. "And the boy?"

It wasn't until now that Emma showed any signs of vulnerability. With her shoulders slumped, her eyes became soft, almost pleading. "I can pay you."

Killian held up his remaining good hand to stop her. "No," he said, firmly. "I'll help. That's why I'm here."

Emma let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She offered him a small smile. "Thanks, I owe you."

The adults returned to where Henry had propped himself at.

"Okay," Killian said. "You ready?"

 _Hey, guys! I want to thank you for reading this. Sorry it's a bit short. I'll work on length for the next chapter. Home you enjoyed it!_


End file.
